Meme(s)

Master is out of town for the weekend so I’ve done memes.

I filched some of these from A Sake of Sanity. She gets the best ones.

ROCK STAR NAME: (first pet, current car): Cookie Malibu

GANGSTA NAME: (favorite ice cream flavor, favorite kind of shoe): Butter Pecan Slipper

HIPPY NAME: (what you ate for breakfast, favorite tree): Bacon Dogwood

SOAP OPERA NAME: (middle name, city where you were born): Marie Sterling

STAR WARS NAME: (the first 3 letters of your last name, first 2 of your first name): Kob Te

SUPERHERO NAME: (favorite color, favorite drink): Blue Water

NASCAR NAME: (the first names of your grandfathers/grandmothers): Virgil Tootie

STRIPPER NAME: (the name of your favorite perfume/cologne/scent, favorite candy): Shania Chocolate

TV WEATHER ANCHOR NAME: (Your 4th grade teacher’s last name, a city that starts with the same letter): Cooper Columbus

SPY NAME: (your favorite season/holiday, flower): Autumn Lilac

CARTOON NAME: (favorite fruit, article of clothing you’re wearing right now): Banana Jeans

——————————————————————————

1. Is sex best in the morning, afternoon, or night?
Yes.

2. On which side of the bed do you sleep?
On the right side. 

3. Pork, beef, or chicken?
Chicken

4. Have you ever had to pull over on the side of the road to puke?
Yes. I’ve also just rolled down the window or opened the door a crack – or aimed in the general direction of the floor. Stopping can be SO much work.

I don’t drink like that anymore, btw. I seriously should be dead or in jail.

5. What leg do you put in pants first when putting them on?
I am not even going to take my pants off and put them back on to find out.

Who pays attention to this stuff??

6. Candles or incense?
Neither. I can’t stand incense, it gives me headaches and makes me nauseous. Candles tend to do the same unless it’s a really mild candle.

7. Do you dance when no one is watching?
My dancing is so bad that even my own self is too embarrassed to do it alone.

8. Did you play doctor when you were little?
Is this one of those sex questions or do you mean did I *really* pretend I was a doctor? It’s too ambiguous, I’m not answering.

9. Stove top cooking or microwave?
Mostly stove top, the kids rule the microwave.

10. Would you rather your car or your house be dirty?
My car is filthy. I am ashamed. But my house is clean.

11. Shower or bath?
Shower. Something about sitting in a floating pool of my own dead skin cells squicks me out.

12. Do you pee in the shower?
Until I met Master, the idea had never occured to me.  Now, though I don’t make it a habit, I figure he’s peed on me so many times in the shower that I can’t be hurting anything by doing it myself.

13. Mexican or Chinese food?
Chinese. Mexican is too spicy for me.

14. Do you want someone aggressive or passive in bed?
LOL. Gee, lemme think on that.

15. Do you own sex toys?
One or two or twenty.

16. Corn dogs or hot dogs?
Corn dogs from the carnival. NOM!

17. Your favorite restaurant?
Since we moved I don’t have one. I really miss the restaurants in the old town. But on the bright side, we’re saving a fortune by not eating out.

18. What did you have for lunch today?
I made a BBQ pulled pork roast in the crock pot that covered lunch and dinner because Master isn’t here and I don’t much care if the kids are impressed with my culinary skillz.

19. When did you last fall down?
A couple of months ago I fell down the last 3 or 4 steps off the deck because I thought I was already at the bottom.

20. Have you ever wished someone were dead?
Some people are only alive because it’s illegal to kill them. *nods*

21. Love or money?
Love. No question.

22. Credit cards or cash?
Cash. Credit cards are teh debil!

23. Has there ever been anyone in your family you wish wasn’t?
Yes. Oh god YES.

24. Oreos or vanilla wafers?
Oreos I guess. But really only the centers of them.

25. How do you like your steak cooked?
Medium rare, with lots of A-1

26. How do you like your eggs cooked?
over easy

27. Have you ever knocked someone off their feet in a fight?
No. *sigh* I’m a pussy.

28. Would you rather go camping or to a five star hotel?
Camping.

29. Would you rather have a root canal or minor surgery?
I’ve never had a root canal so I can’t really compare.

30. Would you shave your entire body (including your head) for money?
Oh hell yes, if it were a decent amount of money. I’d love to shave my head anyway.

31. Would you rather have lice or an STD?
Well gee.  There’s an attractive choice.  Lice, I guess.  At least that’s easy to get rid of. 

32. What’s your favorite hard candy?
I don’t eat hard candy often enough to have a favorite.

33. Ever been to a strip club?
I have been in one, Master took me to one a couple of months ago. I found it to be a HUGE, HUGE disappointment. Nothing at all like it is in the movies.

34. Ever been to a bar?
Yes.

35. Ever been kicked out of a bar or a club?
Yes.

36. Ever been so drunk you had to be carried out of somewhere?
Yes. Too many times.

37. Kissed someone of the same sex?
Yes.

38. Had sex in the car?
Yes. Hell, the first time I had sex in a bed, I wasn’t sure how to do it without having the steering wheel to hang on to.

39. Had sex at the beach?
I had sex in a gravel pit once.  Does that count? That’s the closest I’ve been to a beach.

40. Had sex in a movie theater?
Not sex, but I did give a guy a handjob.

41. Had sex in a bathroom?
Does my own bathroom count?

42. Have you ever been in an “adult” store?
Yes. Lots.

43. Is there anyone on your friends list you would ever consider having sex with?
Yes. A few.

44. Have you been caught having sex?
Yes.

45. Have you ever kissed a stranger?
I was a bar slut. I’ve fucked a stranger.

46. Does anyone have naughty pictures of you?
If I say no, would any of you believe me? :D

—————————————————————-
1. Pick your month of birth
2. Copy-paste the traits for all the twelve months (lists are behind the cut)
3. Next to each trait in your birthday month, do you agree or disagree? Explain why.

JANUARY:
Stubborn and hard-hearted. – Stubborn for sure. I don’t think I’m hard-hearted though.
Ambitious and serious. – erm. No.
Loves to teach and be taught. – Being taught, yes. Teaching? No.
Always looking at people’s flaws and weaknesses. – Ayep.
Likes to criticize. – I don’t know that I LIKE it. I’m just really good at it. *nods*
Hardworking and productive. – I can be. Except for when I’m not.
Smart, neat and organized. – Yes! Organized. And neat.
Sensitive and has deep thoughts. – I think too much. I dunno if that qualifies as “deep”.
Knows how to make others happy. – I know how to. But that’s not the same as doing it, now is it? :D
Quiet unless excited or tensed. – yes. I am quiet.
Rather reserved. – I am very reserved in my “real” life.
Highly attentive. – meh. Depends if I’m interested in it.
Resistant to illnesses but prone to colds. – Heh. Now this is true.
Romantic but has difficulties expressing love. – yes.
Loves children. – I love my own children, otherwise, I really dislike children.
Loyal. – yes.
Has great social abilities yet easily jealous. – Nope. Wrong on both. I’m a social retard and I rarely get jealousy.
Very stubborn and money cautious. – I already said I was stubborn. Jeez. Hammer it home already. But money cautious? Not so much.

Read more »

Be the first to like.

Like

Unlike

Food porn

Beefy vegetable-barley soup with carmelized onion focaccia.

It t’wer da  bomb.

Be the first to like.

Like

Unlike

Cooking question

I’m making Beef Vegetable-Barley Soup in the crock pot. I’ve never cooked with barley before. The recipe calls for ’1/2 cup uncooked medium barley’ but all I could find at the store was Quaker’s quick barley.

Does anyone know if the measurements are the same? Also, since it’s ‘quick’ barley, can I still toss it in the crock pot for 6 hours or should I wait til later?

Another question: I’m supposed to use 1 tsp. dried marjoram leaves but all I have is ground marjoram. How much of the ground should I use in place of the leaves?

Thanks. Master’s belly will thank you. :-)

Be the first to like.

Like

Unlike

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

Master bought me a Michael Jackson’s Number One Hits cd.

Master HATES Micheal Jackson. I love Michael. But not the present day, help!-my-nose-fell-off-and-I-can’t-get-it-back-on Michael Jackson, more the 80′s I’m-so-hot-my-hair-is-on-fire Micheal Jackson. Not the dangle-my-baby-over-the-balcony Michael, but the gee-isn’t-my-glove-purty Michael.

AND he let me listen to it in the car all the way home.

But just when I think Master is getting sweet on me, he totally redeems himself by–

– wiping the cold piss dripping off his dick on my hands because I was having trouble waking up and getting out of bed.

….

…

Yeah. That’s what *I* said!

Ah well, that’s okay, cuz –

You know I’m bad, I’m bad-come on, you know
(bad bad-really, really bad)
And the whole world has to answer right now
Just to tell you once again,
Who’s bad . . .

:D

~cunt

Be the first to like.

Like

Unlike

Computer question

I have a question for those who are computer savvy (cuz I ain’t).

The kids computer connects to the net via a wireless signal sent from our computer, which is cable connected. They’ve always had a rather crappy connection, which, before we moved, we attritubed to having a crappy signal. We had road runner and connected them through a self-installed Linksys set-up but given that niether Master nor myself are particularly techno-literate – though Master trumps me by a country mile- we were content that they had a connection at all.

Anyway, after we moved, we’re now cable connected through charter and we had charter install their wireless for the kids comp, too, hoping they’d get a better connection. Unfortunately, no. I’ve gone the route of calling the service center, and they’ve done all they can do on their end. Their best guess, last time I bothered them, is that the computer is just too far away from ours, too much interference between floors, etc.

But, Am got that laptop for Christmas which connects through the same wireless signal and her laptop is connecting wonderfully. No matter where she is in the house, going through the same interference or more, her signal is strong and steady. So now I’m guessing it’s not a signal problem so much as a problem with the kids computer?

The connection they get, if it connects at all, is weak. It continuously, like, every few minutes, disconnects and reconnects, though half of the time it’ll fail to reconnect. It’ll disconnect almost every time they open a new browser, or it says it’s connected but nothing will load. Otherwise, programs seem to run okay (I don’t use it so I only know what they tell me), if a little slow and sluggish.

It’s an old computer by computer standards, probably 3 years old. It’s an HP (or a compaq. I’m too lazy to go look), runs windows xp, and has suffered much abuse while at the mercy of myspace and yahell and WoW. It’s crashed 3 or 4 times and we’ve had to run the system recovery and virus/spyware scans come up clean.

This is way over my head. I’m all for tossing it out the nearest window and getting a new one but, you know, braces and babies and cars – so keeping it working for as long as possible is a must.

Anyone have a clue? I sure as hell don’t.

Be the first to like.

Like

Unlike

Sweetness and light

I can do it. I can be… (choke) nice.

Let’s see. Umm..

~crickets~

~tumbleweed blows by~

Well. Master mail-ordered a chain saw and it was delivered yesterday. I didn’t even know he’d ordered it.

I asked him if I should be worried. (I mean, srsly, a sadist with a chain saw?? This is every horror movie’s beginning!)

He said no (but if I disappear, someone check the back forty for pieces-n-parts, mmmkay?).

Oh! American Idol started last night! w00t! So, my fellow AI fanatics, what do we think of the new judge? I’m reserving judgement for a couple more shows I think. I suspect she’s going to empower Paula to be a big ol’ bitch instead of the raging drunken fool she used to be – which I found highly entertaining and would sorely miss.

I’ve been counting down the AI season opener since last month. I’d randomly holler out “Guess what happens in 2 weeks (or 4 or 3 or 2 days)?!” and someone, Master or a child, would roll their eyes and say “American Idol. Oh, wee.” and circle their finger in the air.

Smartasses.

So last night, an hour before AI was to start, I did my last countdown, “Guess what starts in ONE HOUR?!” and Master goes “Dudn’t matter. I’m watching a movie.”

~sound of screeching brakes~

Like, for real, every submissive bone in my body took an immediate nap.

“Uh. No yer not.”

“Yes I am.”

“No. You really are not.”

~eyebrow~ “Um. Yes. I really am.”

~planting my heels~ “NO. You are NOT.”

“Tess,” ~warning sound in his voice~ “I’m going to watch a movie.”

~narrowing my eyes~ “You wanna take this outside? Huh? Do ya? DO YA?!! Yippee-kai-yay Motherfucker!”

(Okay, okay, I didn’t SAY that. I telepathed it though.)

What I DID say was that his movie better be over in one hour then because *I* was watching American Idol at eight o’clock come hell or high water and if he REALLY wanted to fight me on it I was more than willing to go that way but if he were a smart man he’d go watch his stupid war movie in the den and let me watch american idol because, in case he’d forgotten, we DID just get a chain saw delivered in the mail that day and he WOULD have to sleep sometime and this REALLY wasn’t the best time of the month to go all Billy Bad Ass –

He patted me on the head and told me to breathe. He was just fucking with me.

So I watched American Idol and it were good.

Let’s see. What else.

*Master has the man-flu. He is dying.

*It is fucking cold here. -6F, wind chill of -20F. People should not live here! Gah! Anywhere in the country to pick from and he chooses the arctic tundra wasteland of upper Michigan. Not the balmy coast of California. Not the tropical utopia of Florida. Not the warm beautiful desert of Arizona. Upper Michigan, according to a Dom I know, has two seasons. There is 9 months of winter and 3 months of crappy snowmobiling.

*Am’s orthodontic care is going to send us to the poor house. Next week she goes in for a spacer and then an extraction. Even with insurance, we’re looking at an out-of-pocket expense of a couple grand for her braces. Jes needs her wisdom teeth taken out, Master had a tooth pulled last month and needs a crown, B-man had a cavity filled and sealers put on – and I? Am not going. Period. At least not until all of this is paid off.

*Speaking of which, I have a line on a jay-oh-bee as a CNA. We’re still kicking around the pros and cons but we’re leaning toward the pros. Because -

*Jes. She doesn’t qualify for any of the programs (so far). WIC, blah blah blah, we’re over the income guidelines. I took the advice of one of the comments awhile back and took Jes on a “field trip” where I had her price everything she’d need before the baby came and get an estimated cost of weekly supplies (diapers, formula, etc.) Unfortunately, it did more to scare me than her. So… job. Yeah. Besides, it’ll give me something to do other than finding irritating things on teh interwebz.

*The ex got on the phone yesterday and graciously offered to help pay to fix Jes’s car (serpentine belt broke) which insanely pissed me off beyond all reason. I asked if he might also find it in the goodness of his heart to help pay for Am’s braces or how about some of these medical bills that Jes is accruing or, you know, maybe chip in for food for these three kids of his. I realize that $80 for a car repair is a big sacrifice for him and all but for fuck’s sake. Loser. I hate him so bad.

He said, but I’m sending them a hundred dollars for Christmas ~whine~. Are you fucking kidding me? First, Christmas was last month. Second, I’ll believe it when they each have the money in their hands and third, it takes more than a one hundred dollar, once-a-year gift to raise kids. I WISH they only cost a hundred bucks a year. Sanctimonious asswipe.

I’m losing the battle to be nice, aren’t I?

Ah well. I tried. :-)

~cunt

Be the first to like.

Like

Unlike

You don’t have to fake it.

This is kind of a pissy little post but I’m a pissy sort of person so nobody should be too shocked.

Why do you suppose people who are involved in long-distance or online relationships will type a post in a manner that insinuates that the other party is there with them?

For instance, when detailing a scene or a punishment it’s all “He landed the first stroke directly across my ass”, “Master took pleasure in taunting my body” or “I get chills when He touches me” when the guy is halfway across the world.

These are the same people who hotly defend the notion that online is just as real as in person (and I’m not trying to start up that debate again!) but if they honestly believe that, why the disingenuous wording? Seriously, I was reading one blog for weeks before I figured out that they were online only. She never once said it. Every interaction was written in a way that implied they were physically interacting with each other, even to the point of somehow “finding herself being bent over and penetrated” after a bath.

Well, no you didn’t. You didn’t *find* yourself suddenly bent over and penetrated. You got a dildo and you bent yourself over and you penetrated yourself. There was no element of surprise there, ffs.

I just don’t get it. How can they expect to have other people accept their relationship as “real” if they themselves can’t even present it in it’s reality? I don’t CARE if it’s long distance or online, I’d still read it if the writing is worth reading, but, sheesh, honesty man!

So – why? why do they this?

It makes me want to pinch them on the back of the arm in that really tender spot.

Be the first to like.

Like

Unlike

They say it’s your birthday!

And it was, on Sunday. 38 years old.

Teh depression. It hurts.

Thank you for the birthday wishes. :-)

Age is bothering me lately. I don’t know if it’s because my mom is sick and I’m facing the realization that my parents won’t live forever or because Jes is thrusting granny-hood on me before I’m ready or if it’s because Am pointed out that I have wrinkles or because I’m losing the battle of the gray hair or because I’m just getting old and I don’t wanna be. Whatever the reason, I think 40 is going to be hard.

I certainly don’t *act* my age, though. Imma hang on to immaturity for as long as I can!

We had a spectacularly pleasant weekend, Master and I. One of the better ones of late. Friday, Am went to a party so she was gone for the night, and B-man had two friends over (lose one, gain two – story of my life), but it does my heart good to know the kids are making friends. That’s not easy when you’re the new kid in town.

Saturday was the local munch, and that’s always fun. We’re liking this group here quite a bit. It’s very laid back, very comfortable. There aren’t 800 rules or protocols, doesn’t seem to be any fighting or anything like that (a common problem in some munch groups is ‘office politics’) and there are a few people who Master and I had an immediate connection with. So yay for socialization!

The only bad thing about the munch is that it’s just dinner while trying to socialize about kink in a vanilla setting. Other munches that we’ve been to have taken place at someone’s house where they had a regular play place set up and after a little eating and talking, things would get down and dirty. There just isn’t that space here.

Someday, when the kids move out and we have our place set up, we’ll do it. *nods*

But speaking of being kinky in a vanilla setting, there was another thread I was reading (on Fetlife of course!) where someone was complaining about people who show up to a munch, in a vanilla setting, wearing obvious fet-wear. This person said she and her partner had stopped attending the munch because they were afraid of being seen in the company of such freaks, that whole guilty-by-association thang. I think she claimed that her husband would be jailed or fired if he was caught having breakfast with someone in a collar though she was totally fine with having face shots on a highly detailed profile on a kink site, which, oy.. nevermind. I’m getting off topic. Again. Anyway…

There are a couple of people who come to the munch here wearing questionable attire. It IS a vanilla setting, a family restaurant, though we kind of hide in a back, semi-private room. But, you know, ropes, collars, corsets, revealing clothes – that sort of thing, it doesn’t bother me at all. I don’t get the idea of condemning someone based on the company they keep. For all anyone around knows, you’re a bunch of chess geeks and some of you just dress really funny. Since when are we responsible for dressing anyone besides ourselves? Meh. Maybe because I’m a mother of teenagers who never dress how I’d prefer them to dress, I’m immune to the funny looks. I dunno.

But speaking of questionable attire, Master made me wear the tack bra to the munch. As soon as we walked in, he made sure to tell everybody that I was in desperate need of frequent body-crunching bear hugs, and then helped them by doing hug sandwiches with me in the middle.

The pain was exquisite. ~puts my fingers to my lips and blows a kiss~ Perfection.

After the munch, we came home and Jes and Am had gone to the store while we were gone and bought stuff to make and decorate a birthday cake, which I thought was really sweet. It was all lopsided with frosting an inch deep on one side and barely there on the other, but still. They’d baked it and decorated it all by themselves (and these are the kids who can’t master the toaster, remember) so I was impressed.

The same girl who took us out after the last munch had come back to our house with us and we had hot, raunchy sex with lots of slapping and pinching ate cake and watched a movie.

Just one more occasion when I wished the kids had separate living quarters.

Opportunities for debauchery just slip right on by because the kids sit on the couch. Grrs. And they don’t leave either! Any other time, the idea of sitting on the couch on a Saturday night with mom and dad? Too boring. Too dumb. Too gay. But we bring home a sexy chic and the kids turn into sticky boogers.

Bah.

After she left, we went to bed and I woke up early Sunday, on my birthday, to 39 birthday spankings with the belt (38 years plus one to grow on!) and some awesomely hot birthday sex (there may have been 38 orgasms in there but that could be a slight exaggeration. I’ll never tell.)

Then Sunday afternoon, another M/s couple from the munch came by to visit. We’d all just kind of planned on a short little visit, have some coffee, chit chat a little, you know, take that first step to getting to know each other – and they ended up staying for like, 7 hours or something. The time flew by, and we just sat at the table talking about shit. They stayed for dinner and everything, it was really a lot of fun.

When the kids would get bored enough to wander out of earshot, we’d talk a bit about M/s stuff, how hard it can be, and when the kids were listening, we’d ease back into vanilla conversation. As the wife (slave) of the couple said, it really makes a difference to have like-minded people to converse with. Gets the creative juices flowing and all that.

I see a light at the end of the tunnel. Things are falling back into place, words are coming easier, tensions are easing.

It’s nice. Pleasant. :-)

Be the first to like.

Like

Unlike

“All animals are equal, but some are more equal than others.”

“Why is it OK to kill an animal but not to fuck one?”

That’s the latest question on Fetlife.

From K_D –

“So you’re quite happy to have them killed to suit your taste buds. You’re rally comfortable with the thought of a baby lamb dangling from a meat hook, twitching away as the last of its lifeblood oozes out of its throat.

But if a woman gets a ram to fuck her from behind she’s evil?”

Consent seems to be the big hang up when discussion turns to bestiality.

“But but but… Poor Fido didn’t consent to being fucked!”

Well, I doubt he consented to being chopped up for stew, either.

Neither did I consent to having my leg humped and my shoes dribbled on.

Call me crazy, but any animal with a boner trying it’s damndest to stick it in a hole appears to be consenting – and with great enthusiasm.

“But but but… Poor, poor Fido was trained to do that. Poor dear.”

As animal owners, we train our pets to do a variety of things. We train them to work, plowing fields, or carrying some fat, lazy cowboy’s ass from here to Timbuktu. We train them to fetch newspapers and beer cans. We train them to perform, sit, stay, roll over, speak, dance. We train them to kill, to hunt. We dress them up and parade them around for shits and giggles.

We cage them. Fence them in. Make them pee outside when it’s 20 below.

I wonder if they consented to any of that.

I wonder if they LIKE it. I mean, I think they do and I have no moral objection to teaching Fido to sit, cuz, when I see a dog wagging it’s tail and rolling over for a treat with a big ol’ slobbery doggy grin on its face, I’m thinking he consented as well as an animal can.

I’ve seen a fair share of bestiality porn on the net and when I see a dog enthusiastically, almost viciously, mounting a woman? I’m thinking he’s consenting even more so than he does when you wave a milk bone at him to get him to bark.

We breed them. We use them in research, performing painful and dangerous tests on them that often leave them dead. We “humanely” euthanize them for no reason whatsoever. We feed them substandard food, or none at all, or we feed them well, purely for the sake of fattening them up so we can butcher them.

When it comes to arguing about bestiality, consent just doesn’t work as a defense, in my opinion. Because I’m quite sure no animal would consent to any of those things, least of all being the next item on the menu.

I cannot recall ever, while standing at the butcher’s counter, hearing anyone protest that the animal didn’t consent to being sliced and diced. What I *have* heard is “Can you slice that a little thinner, Bob?” But good lord. Sally Slut gets her cooter licked by a dog and all hell breaks loose.

My opinion on this is very much slanted in favor of the animal being the active participant though. I mean, let it do what it does on its own. You can’t force it to lick, you can’t force it to fuck, so if it’s doing it, *shrug*, it’ll quit when it’s done I guess.

But I’d slam the brakes on the animal being the fuckee and not the fucker. While I doubt the average male penis is going to hurt the inner workings of your average horse (I mean, seriously. Have you SEEN the size of horse’s penis? For sure, it’s a tad larger than a man’s and a mare can easily handle that!). Besides, I’ve seen tv shows and been on farms where a grown man has stuck his arm elbow-deep (and beyond!) up a cow/horse without so much as a how-do-you-do or a kiss hello, and the animal barely lifts her head out of the feed. So I’m thinking a man back there poking his wee-willy-wonka around would be about as noticeable as a fart in a hurricane.

But smaller animals stand to suffer. That’s not cool.

Before anyone asks, I’m not about to start up a sex affair with the pooch or anything like that. Quite honestly, the idea of it turns my stomach something awful. However, I do get amused at the objections people offer when the subject comes up, or how up-in-arms angry they get, crying about animal abuse, while nomming down on a burger and fries.

Speaking of which, I’m hungry!

Be the first to like.

Like

Unlike

“Do not go gentle into that good night.”

Last night, 10 pm on the dot, Master and I go to bed.

It’s all very routine and repetitive.

So we’re lying there, side by side, he with his book, some weird sci-fi something or other, propped on his chest, me with the latest Dean Koontz propped the same way. As we do every night. The house is quiet, as it is every night. (Except for the clatter and bang of the cats destroying as much as is felinely possible before morning.)

Master sniffles. I cough. He fluffs his pillow better under his head. I put on more chapstick. He double checks his alarm. I rub lotion on an itchy spot on my arm. And then, for 15 or 20 minutes there is nothing, no sound or movement save the soft swish of pages turning as we both get into our books.

When all of sudden Sleepless in Seattle comes to mind. Specifically the bedroom scene between Meg Ryan and Bill Pullman. If you’ve seen the movie you’ll know what I mean. Kleenex and… routine.

And I had a sudden vision of us, Master and I, in 20 or 30 years, having the exact same bedtime routine. For 30 years. Thirty YEARS.

I turned and looked at Master. I watched him read (I like to watch him read. His face is very expressive). Finally, he sensed me staring at him.

“What?” He asked.

“Nothing.”

“Okay.” He went back to reading. I kept staring, still seeing kleenex and routine.

He turned back to me again. “What??”

“We should fuck.” I said.

He hesitated a half a beat. “Okay!” He grinned and yanked off the covers. We both scrambled out of our underwear (and why and when did I stop going to bed butt naked?? I’d never been allowed clothes in bed) and I slid down to hurry him into an erection with my mouth.

It started off as a very simple blow job. But before I knew it, he had his fist tangled in my hair, and was thrusting his pelvis up into my face. As his cock stiffened, he was soon jabbing down my throat, pressing and grinding my face into his groin, until I sputtered and choked.

SO out of practice. I never would have believed that being face fucked was a skill that slips away when not used. But it is. My lips got in the way, my throat closed, I forgot how to breathe. I couldn’t find a rythm that matched his. Thankfully, he wasn’t set out to face fuck me to completion, merely to full erection. Soon enough, he’d flipped me over and was inside of me. But even that part? Out of practice.

For real, I was in a pathetically unprepared state. Whereas he came roaring out of the gate, set upon some heavy, s&m-fueled fucking, I was struggling to keep up. I’d expected a rather lazy, slow fuck given how close to sleep we’d been. What I got was an energetic, groping, squeezing, pinching, mauling, pounding fuckfest.

Not that I’m complaining. I was just.. shocked. And a step behind him all the way through.

Finally, he had me on my knees, face planted on the mattress, with my arms pulled behind me, my hands in his, like horse reins, a position that allows for maximum depth and forceful pumping, one of those that slams the grunts out of you cuz you can’t quite help it, before coming inside of me.

Then he rolled over, propped his book back up and went back to reading. While I tried to catch my breath and push my hair out of my face and capture the semen running down my thighs and untangle myself from the blankets.

All in all, thumbs up, man.

I cannot think of any reason why we stopped doing that.

~cunt

Be the first to like.

Like

Unlike